


from here you can almost see the sea

by oflights



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:00:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oflights/pseuds/oflights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set this after any hard Pens loss you want; this is just Sidney and Geno in a bath together, making each other feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	from here you can almost see the sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caperg33l](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caperg33l/gifts), [emilyisobsessed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyisobsessed/gifts).



> The Pens played like poop for Emily and Lacye and Jessica's big Dally adventure, and only Jessica didn't mind. This is to make them feel better and also to make me feel better because losing sucks. Pointless and a bit smutty; the title is from David Gray.

Geno always manages to beat Sidney home by a good 30 minutes. Sidney doesn’t know if it’s because he drives faster or with little regard for safety (though that’s certainly true), or because he takes less of a cool down routine or less routines in general than Sidney after a game. The media factors into it, too, and tonight Sidney’s going slow, sore and wrecked from hard minutes and a hard loss that sits in the pit of his stomach.

The loss doesn’t taste any better when Sidney sees Geno’s car, sees the lights on in his front hallway and his kitchen. When he swings his car around to park in the garage, he can see the light on in his bedroom, the only room on the second floor they ever actually use. That’s a relief, because Sidney doesn’t have the energy tonight to sit in front of the TV and pretend that helps him unwind. He’d have to leave Geno to do that on his own, and neither of them would like it.

There’s stuff for a sandwich out in the kitchen, Geno’s single plate and a knife the only things in the dishwasher. Sidney makes his own without really thinking about it, eats it methodically without tasting anything, leaning heavily over the island counter with his tie loosened and his feet bare.

He turns all the lights off downstairs when he finishes, checks that the security system is up and running, and doesn’t let himself think about how many stairs he has to climb before he’s climbed them. Sidney’s legs and thighs feel like rubber.

Geno is just in boxers and a t-shirt, sprawled on the bed, over the covers and on his stomach. Sidney thinks he’s sleeping as he strips out of his clothes and takes a small break before pulling on sweatpants, but Geno is sitting up in bed when Sidney comes out of his closet. His feet are flat on the bed and his legs are spread, and Sidney doesn’t say anything when he just heads over and crawls between them, wrapping his arms around Geno’s waist and stretching out until his head is resting on one of Geno’s thighs. 

Neither of them says anything for a bit. Geno sighs and puts his hand in Sidney’s hair, rubbing his scalp a little, easing a headache that Sidney had been too tired to feel alarmed about. Geno feels warm and solid, though when Sidney looks up at him, he seems as boneless and weary as Sidney feels, his face stuck in a pout. 

Sidney doesn’t like when Geno looks sad. His sleepy eyes always make him look more wounded than anyone else. There’s no tightness in his face, just something soft and unhappy. Sidney reaches up without really thinking, shifting when his heavy arms protest the angle, and he cups Geno’s face with one hand, burying his own face in Geno’s neck.

Geno sighs again, and wraps his arms fully around Sidney. “I start bath,” he says softly; Sidney feels it more than he hears it. “I start for me but think you need too. And I need—”

He breaks off but Sidney mentally finishes the sentence—he needs Sidney with him. That’s easy, that’s nothing—he might fall asleep but he’ll do it in Geno’s arms and he’ll gladly take the wrinkly fingers and toes.

“Let’s go,” Sidney says, just as soft. It still takes them a minute to get going.

Sidney drops his clothes carelessly in a trail to his en suite, where his huge tub is nearly full and beautifully warm when he dips his fingers in. He waits for Geno, who has stripped out of his boxers and is slow to reach for his t-shirt, and Sidney winds up pulling it off for him, pressing them together for a brief moment chest-to-chest before dropping the shirt and nodding towards the tub.

“You first. You like being the big spoon in here.” After a little while Sidney might want the jets on his back, but he can shift around for that. Being held sounds much better to him right now.

“Yes,” Geno says, solemn but light, pressing a quick kiss to Sidney’s forehead before climbing in. He settles down with a groan and then opens his arms, and Sidney doesn’t hesitate.

He sinks into the water and into Geno’s hold, closing his eyes for a minute and trying to get his mind into a place where he can enjoy this. For a little bit, the game is still there, stuffed into his every sense, and Geno’s arms tighten slightly, like he can feel the game humming through Sidney’s body and wants to squeeze it out. Geno’s hands spread flat out over Sidney’s belly under the water and Sidney fits his hands over them, and concentrates on letting go.

It works eventually. Sidney’s shoulders droop as Geno’s does. Geno’s long legs are stretched on either side of Sidney and slowly they loosen up, so Sidney goes loose with them. He lets his head drop back on Geno’s shoulder and feels Geno’s warm, dry lips press against his temple, kissing him there gently.

“Can sleep,” Geno rumbles, one hand sneaking out of Sidney’s hold to cup warm water and pour it down over Sidney’s chest, rubbing him there. “Not let you drown.”

“Mm,” Sidney says, but he doesn’t go to sleep. Instead he snuggles back and lets himself feel how Geno feels, how warm he is and how strong his arms are. His hands feel huge across Sidney’s front, stroking him all over, his stomach and pecs and his ribs, down to his thighs until they slide down in front of him and lose their tension. Geno kneads there and Sidney’s muscles feel like jelly in a good way; he sighs and gropes blindly until he finds one of Geno’s hands with his, tangling their fingers and stroking over the back of his hand.

“Feels good,” Geno says, not a question. Touching Sidney feels good to him and that makes Sidney flush a little, feeling pink with warmth from the bath and warmth from Geno’s hands. He forces his eyes open and looks at Geno, who is similarly pink, his hair curled a bit at the ends from the steam.

His eyes are still soft but no longer sad, and it almost always hurts to look at Geno but now it’s in a good way. His round, kind face makes Sidney’s chest tight, makes his breath catch and his fingers squeeze around Geno’s.

“You feel so good,” Sidney says. Geno’s smile is tiny and pleased, enough of a smirk that it makes Sidney’s cock stir, his stomach going warm with something different. 

He doesn’t really feel tired anymore. He feels swaddled, not quite rested but not aching anymore. Even the loss only twinges; it feels as though all his mistakes in the game have seeped out into the water, and every shot that got swallowed up by the goalie or sticked into the corner has melted out of his skin. When they pull the drain the mistakes will follow the water and he’ll think about them tomorrow. Tonight, he wants to think about Geno.

Geno knows how he feels and goes as Sidney goes. Sometimes that’s hard to think about, because it’s easy to think the team is Sidney’s to carry and not to share, and the slump of Geno’s shoulders after a loss like this annoys him. It’s Sidney’s failure to feel, sometimes, not a failure that belongs to both of them.

But the longer they’ve done this part together—the part that’s about touching each other, the part that’s more than chirping each other on the bench and pushing each other on the ice and slamming in to each other full force after goals—the easier it’s gotten for Sidney to know it’s not just him. Sharing the loss isn’t burdening Geno because he’s already burdened, and being selfish about it just makes it worse.

They’re a team within the team and that never feels more apparent than on nights like this. It makes his heart clench to think of before, of being alone, and more than that to think of Geno alone. “I’m really glad you’re here,” Sidney whispers, swallowing hard. The words don’t seem like enough for the feeling pushing at his chest, and Geno says something very soft in Russian.

He angles Sidney’s face to kiss him, short presses of his mouth against Sidney’s in quick succession, firm but lingering. Sidney feels a bit tingly after, more so when he feels Geno’s cock pushing at the small of his back. He feels his own respond but it feels more important to twist completely in Geno’s hold, bracing his knees on the bottom of the tub and kissing Geno deeply.

Geno lets Sidney trace the seam of his lips with his tongue, and opens for him when Sidney makes a small noise in the back of his throat. Sidney tries to tone down any urgency, his frantic tendencies, and concentrates on making the kiss thorough. It’s not sloppy, the way Geno likes to kiss, but calculated, and Sidney wonders if Geno can feel him thinking about it, can taste his intentions and his surety. 

They break off the kiss when their breathing starts to pick up. Geno runs his wet hands down Sidney’s sides, and it feels as though he can frame Sidney’s whole body with them, can feel him all over at once. It’s the kind of feeling that makes him shiver in the warmth, that makes his cock swell between his legs.

Geno’s hands clamp on to his hips, and he kisses Sidney once more and then mumbles, “Can’t stay like this.”

“Why not?” Sidney asks. He hasn’t gotten his hand on Geno’s dick yet but wants to, wants to feel him get hard in his fingers, to feel the heft of his balls in his palm. He’s not quite sure what “like this” means.

“Bad on knees,” Geno tells him. His lips are a bit swollen from Sidney’s mouth, wet from Sidney licking at them, and Sidney can’t stop staring. He wants to bite lightly on Geno’s plump bottom lip and then suck on it, so he does that for a moment. Geno’s breath goes shaky and when he kisses Sidney it’s a lot of teeth, not cautious or gentle. It feels good and goes straight to his cock.

But Geno’s hands are squeezing his hips now, and he shakes his head against Sidney’s forehead, barely moving it. “Not good for knees, Sid. Hard tub, no carpet in here. Move.”

Geno shifts all the way to one side of the tub and spreads his arms across the back of it, and Sidney moves into his side, squeezing in more out of want than necessity. He puts his hand right in Geno’s lap, drawing a knowing grin from Geno and a kiss to Sidney’s forehead, and Sidney smiles.

He takes Geno in hand firmly, humming approvingly when he finds him more than half-hard. Geno gives a little shudder, kisses Sidney’s hair this time, and tries to reach for his cock, but Sidney shakes his head, closing his legs.

“It can wait. I want to focus.”

“Sid,” Geno groans. He draws it out and Sidney starts stroking him slowly, thrilling as he feels Geno getting bigger. His stomach has the usual jumbled excitement of sex that’s never faded with Geno, has never been this strong with other partners. He likes that he can feel how big Geno is and how interested he is in Sidney, likes that he knows how to play with his foreskin just enough, until he can feel the head peeking out. 

He makes a complete fist and works it up and down the shaft, stopping short at the flared head a few times, before he palms over it. Geno’s whole body twitches, one of his arms wrapping tight around Sidney’s shoulders. Sidney feels so fucking right like that, Geno holding him securely while he makes Geno feel good. He smiles and presses the smile into Geno’s neck, and another groan rumbles through Geno in response.

Sidney starts jerking Geno in earnest then, keeping his strokes measured and even. He sinks his other hand into the water so he can cup Geno’s balls, already gone tight, solid and filling his palm in a way that makes Sidney’s thighs clench together. His own cock is hard against his belly now and he’s squirming with it, his heart kicking happily.

Geno’s breath has gone harsh and the water splashes a bit when he starts jerking his hips into Sidney’s strokes. He whines a little into Sidney’s hair and Sidney kisses him eagerly, speeding up his strokes to get Geno closer. Sidney curls his legs under him and starts losing himself in the kiss, everything but Geno’s plush lips and his hot cock in Sidney’s hand falling away. Geno fucks his tongue into Sidney’s mouth to the same rhythm he fucks into Sidney’s hand until he stops, freezing and grunting out harshly.

He milks Geno through it, gentling his strokes and then taking his hand away when Geno’s head drops forward to land on Sidney’s shoulder. Sidney presses a soft kiss to the shell of Geno’s ear and hugs him without really thinking about it.

He’s not really thinking about anything but Geno in his arms, solid and warm and boneless, until Geno’s arms come around him, too, and they squeeze. “Here,” Geno murmurs, and he shifts Sidney with too little effort, too much strength in his tired arms and Sidney’s considerable weight. Sidney gasps, squirming more, suddenly feeling overheated in the cooling water. 

Geno has Sidney tilted sideways in his lap, legs suddenly spread and flung over one of Geno’s so his feet press up against the side of the tub. His hand is quick and deft between Sidney’s legs, finding his cock and tugging it, then breaking to walk his fingers over his balls and behind them. He presses there with a fingertip and Sidney whines harshly, the sound echoing in his bathroom and making him flush. 

He presses at Sidney’s hole, too, reaching as far as he can and just lightly fingering the rim while he grabs Sidney’s cock with his other hand. Sidney tries to clench down on just the fingertip and can’t, and the frustration makes him hotter, makes him squirm against Geno’s long fingers and huge palm. 

When he comes, he whimpers into Geno’s neck and Geno gives him soothing Russian, more like sighs than words. They drift into Sidney’s ears and make his head feel foggy, dreamy, and it’s necessary to slump against Geno and let him hold all of Sidney that he can regardless of weight. Sidney doesn’t feel like he weighs anything, then.

They’re both chilly after a few more minutes. Geno picks up Sidney’s hand from the water and kisses his fingertips and Sidney smiles because they’re a little wrinkly.

He feels like he’s at the bottom of the stairs again when faced with the reality that they have to get out of the tub, but once again Sidney doesn’t let himself dwell on it. He climbs out slowly and drips on the mat for a moment, and Geno squeezes onto it with him, huddling in close as he bends to drain the tub. 

They wrap each other in two of Sidney’s big fluffy towels, drying hard to reach spots for one another before padding into the bedroom naked. Geno goes right for the bed, grabbing his boxers like they’re an afterthought and tugging them on before turning down the covers. He’s already crawled in by the time Sidney has his t-shirt and sweats back on, and he pats Sidney’s side of the bed with hard thumps of his big hand behind his back. 

Sidney grins and climbs in, reaching over to grab Geno’s phone from the nightstand. “I’m setting the alarm for practice,” Sidney says, and Geno gives him a grumpy look of betrayal that eventually softens under Sidney’s unimpressed glower.

Practice will be good, Sidney decides as he sets the alarm and then puts Geno’s phone on the nightstand on his side. They can unpack the game and tinker and think about things, and Sidney feels good about that now, can think of it with determination instead of sinking dread. It won’t be just Sidney thinking about it, or just Geno, but both of them with the team, sharing it. That’s the way it has to be to work.

Sidney turns off the lamp on his side and burrows under the covers, shifting until he’s pressed up against Geno’s back. Geno chuckles and takes Sidney’s hand when he puts an arm across his chest, squeezing it.

“You big spoon in here?”

“Yes,” Sidney says happily, snuggling in. He slings one leg over Geno’s legs to make his point, his foot pressing into Geno’s calf. Geno’s bare skin, his warmth and his solid, stalwart weight, pull Sidney into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> [This](http://maxcdn.thedesigninspiration.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/Cuddling-Kittens-013.jpg) is what they look like at the end of the fic, except holding hands. :3


End file.
